Ace Attorney: Turnabout Shorts
by agentfopsy
Summary: A series of shorts and long drabbles, each chapter revolving around one or two characters, exploring the possibilities of what could of have occurred in the characters' lives outside the games.


Vera trembled as the prison guard who had been leading her stopped. "T-Thank you, mister." He tipped his hat in response and went back to his post, leaving Vera in front of the big metal bars of the prison cell.

Her hands tightened over her sketch folder as she watched the man inside take a sip from a cup of tea. He was seated in an expensive purple armchair, the back facing Vera. She didn't dare say anything, her eyes wandering over to the dresser in the back of the cell. A ray of forlorn light caught the tip of the hand-shaped bottle of nail polish on it, and just the sight of it made Vera shiver.

A little voice in her head screamed at her, telling her to go back home and stay, that this was madness, that she wasn't strong enough to do this, that she never would be...

No, she had to do this. She opened her mouth, but she couldn't find the words.

The man's fingers twitched slightly as he set down the china cup he had been drinking from.

"Are you actually going to say anything at all?" His words pierced through her like a shard of glass, cold sweat running down her neck. She gulped, now clutching her papers to her chest.

"Tch, if you aren't going to say something worthwhile, then you should leave. You're being a waste of my time. Foolish girl." Vera was pretty sure he was smirking; his tone betrayed his shallow smile.

Her lips parted, then closed again. Sometimes actions were more than words. She had to do it. With shaking hands she opened her sketchpad, and ripped out a drawing. The prisoner's head turned slightly. Biting her lip at his reaction, she spun on her foot and looked at the bare, dull wall opposite the cell bars. Taking out a packet of blue-tack, she tore the plastic off with her teeth, and scraped off a bit of the sticky substance. She hung the drawing up, taking a step back and gazed at her artwork. It purely consisted of pencil strokes. A hand, leaping out from the shadows, with clawing fingers, snatching at something. The back of it was clearly visible, the face of some kind of mutated being staring at the viewer... The Devil's hand.

"Take it off."

Vera's expression hardened as the voice behind her sneered.

"Take it off _now_."

She yanked another picture from her sketches, looked at it for a moment and then stuck it on the wall next to the previous drawing. A drawing of _his _face. His face shrouded in a black hood. His black eyes shone with a hungry stare, blood trickled from the upturned, grinning lips. The sight of someone's true nature.

"_TAKE THEM OFF!_" the man roared. Vera heard the bars rattle, along with the prisoner's grunts and snarls. She kept her eyes on the wall, jaw set and arms crossed.

"_TAKE. THE. FUCKING. DRAWINGS. OFF." _Her eyes widened slightly. Such swearing, coming from _him. _That certainly was a first. She sighed, lips quivering as she lifted her gaze to her art. She refused to have nightmares anymore. Never again. She'd leave these scary dreals with him, in the form of drawings she had made after waking up in her own cold sweat.

"N-no... I will not take them... down." Vera closed her eyes, turned and faced the Devil. His scowl made her stomach leap. He was gripping the bars so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"What... did you say?" he asked, icy anger lacing his simple words.

"No. I said, no." Her voice no longer shook. This was something Vera _had _to do. It was here and now, or never. But she didn't want to face her dark dreams again.

"You... ruined my life... All this time I've been chased by the shadow of a terrible man, who left such an impression on me... That he consumed my thoughts... But not today. Today is the day everything comes to an end. Goodbye."

She left the cell entrance, her footsteps echoing through the hall as she tried to keep a straight face while walking to the exit.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, MISHAM! COME BACK HERE!"

As she reached the end of the hall, the sound of a china cup being smashed against the wall could be heard, as well as the screaming and shrieking of the man.

"Goodbye," Vera whispered as she opened the door. The way to freedom. The passage to a world where she'd never live in fear of him again.

A place where Kristoph Gavin could never control her again.


End file.
